Chapter 31
CHANTEL
“God, it’s about time,” Michele groans.
The whole table turns to look at us, and a flush spreads down my throat when they notice the teeth marks there.
I guess they know what took us so long.
Nonna beams at the two of us together, her expectant gaze drifting to Cristian. “Quando possiamo aspettarci un bambino?”
“Ci stiamo già lavorando.” Cristian smirks.
Several pairs of wide eyes blink at us, and Rafe snorts. “Someone doesn’t waste any time.”
“Do I want to know?” I ask Cristian.
Amusement flashes in his eyes as he shakes his head and leads me to the table. We sit down, and Nonna promptly dishes up a heaping plate of food for Cristian.
“For your strength.” She squeezes his shoulders.
“Looks like he had plenty to spare this morning,” Michele muses.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.” Valentina stares at us.
The brothers share a look, indicating they aren’t surprised in the slightest.
“So you all knew?” Abella raises a brow at her husband.
“Of course we knew.” Nonna grabs my plate, dishing up for me before I can protest. “It was very obvious.”
“Only to you, Nonna.” Mariella laughs. “I think you dabble in witchcraft.”
“Madonna.” Nonna holds up her pendant necklace, as if that explains everything.
By the time she’s finished adding things to my plate, I have a slice of frittata, potatoes, breakfast cake, fruit, some cold cuts, and a mozzarella and tomato salad.
“You’ll need your strength too.” She gives me a subtle nod as if she knows my sex life with Cristian will be a full-contact sport. “The Vitale men are very robust.”
“And potent.” Rafe snorts in Angelo’s direction.
“Tell me about it.” Abella cradles her pregnant belly.
“One more word out of any of you and I’m excommunicating myself from this family,” Mariella grumbles.
“Send us a postcard,” Michele teases.
“Now that we got that out of the way—” Romeo says dryly, casting a glance at Cristian. “Are you good?”
“I’m good.” Cristian’s palm finds my bare leg beneath the table.
I have a feeling he’s been thinking about it since he saw me put on this vintage black velvet summer dress. The first thing he did was pull me close, slide his hands up the back of my thighs, and cup my ass. So I guess that means he likes it.
I wonder how many of those dirty thoughts he’s harbored over the years while we were tossing insults at each other.
For such a reserved man, he has a filthy mouth on him, and I love that I’m the only one who gets to see that part of him.
The conversation around the table continues as we eat, and all of Cristian’s siblings steal glances at him, genuinely relieved to have him back.
The Vitales are as close as a family can get.
They might argue at every meal and trade barbs like it’s their full-time job, but they will go to the ends of the earth to defend each other.
And while the mood is lighter and everyone is happy, I haven’t missed the suspicion lingering in Angelo’s eyes when he looks at me.
He doesn’t trust me, and that can only end one of two ways. Either they’ll accept me for who I am, or I’ll cause a divide between the two brothers.
The thought makes my stomach churn, and I lose my appetite before I can even finish a quarter of what Nonna put on my plate.
“Not hungry?” Cristian looks over at me in concern.
“I ate what I could,” I answer indirectly, hoping he doesn’t notice the shift in my mood.
But of course, he does.
For the rest of the meal, I catch him checking in on me, and I try my best to forget my problems for a while. I really don’t want to dampen the mood.
When Rafe gets up to take a call, Abella comes over and steals his chair, eyeing the marks on my neck.
“He gets bitey when he’s feeling possessive.” I shrug.
“Must be a genetic trait.” She laughs.
Cristian squeezes my thigh, quietly indicating he heard that even though he’s listening to Michele tell a story.
I can tell Abella wants to pepper me with more questions, but before she gets the chance, Angelo glances up from his phone and meets Cristian’s gaze.
“Ares is here. He wants to talk.”
It’s the news we’ve been waiting for, and I’m anxious thinking I probably won’t hear it firsthand. Men in this world usually like to talk business alone. But Cristian surprises me when he takes my hand in his.
“Ready?”
I nod, and Angelo doesn’t appear to be happy with this development, but he doesn’t argue.
“I’m coming too,” Mariella says.
She ignores Angelo’s sigh, seemingly determined to get to the bottom of whatever Ares is up to.
Eventually, Rafe, Michele, and Romeo also join us, and we all head out to the open-air courtyard together.
Naturally, Ares is sitting there completely unbothered that he’s in enemy territory.
“I’ve heard so much about the famous Vitale hospitality over the years,” he drawls as we sit across from him. “But I can’t say I’m impressed. I save a man’s life and don’t even get an invite into the house?”
Cristian looks visibly annoyed, and I’m already worried about how this might go.
“Why don’t you tell us how you knew about the boat to begin with?” he says. “That seems like a good place to start.”
Ares’s smile falters slightly, and for once, he looks conflicted about whatever it is he’s about to divulge.
“Well, through no fault of my own—” He pauses to emphasize that part. “I had the unfortunate circumstance of having a traitor in my midst. As you know, these things happen occasionally—”
A chorus of angry Italian and a few choice words eject from the Vitales before Mariella takes the lead.
“This isn’t a fucking joke.” She glares at Ares. “My brother almost died. So you better start explaining yourself before I—”
“Mariella,” Angelo cuts her off. “Let’s hear what he has to say before we start threatening to chop him up.”
Ares’s gaze slides over her, something dark smoldering in the depth of his eyes. “Someone woke up with a little bite in them today. If you’re in the mood for some role play—”
“For fuck’s sake,” Cristian grits out. “Just tell us what you came here to say.”
Ares sighs, his gaze drifting to me.
“I heard about the fire at Chantel’s house,” he says.
“And because I like to stay apprised of who’s doing what in my city, I looked into it.
Coincidentally, one of my men hadn’t reported for duty that night.
He’d been a little squirrely lately, and I was already tracking his moves.
When we pulled the data, it confirmed his location was within a few blocks of Chantel’s house for several hours. ”
“What’s his name?” Cristian’s voice takes on a murderous edge.
“Elias.”
My body goes rigid as that information hangs in the air, shocking me to my core.
For a full minute, all I can do is sit there in silence as I try to process this news.
I want to believe it doesn’t add up.
One of the first notes the stalker left me said I didn’t know him yet, but I would. That’s why I assumed it was someone I had never met.
But he also seemed to know things about my past, and Elias was one of the few people who knew my background.
“He was at the club with Andreas all the time,” I rasp. “But he never gave me any indication. The man barely even spoke to me.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t say he was playing with a full deck,” Ares replies. “We tapped into his phone and found a rather disturbing stockpile of his delusions.”
“Like what?” I swallow.
“There were daily notes about your routine, what you ate, where you went, who you were with, and who he perceived as a threat. He’d also been planning to take Marco out, but he aborted that idea when Cristian came into the picture.”
“Oh my god.”
My stomach drops.
The implication that Cristian almost died because of his presence in my life makes me feel sick.
When I glance over at him, his eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen them.
“Was he the one who rigged the boat?” Angelo asks.
Ares nods. “He was documenting his plans in real time. As soon as I knew what he was up to, I called.”
“We stopped, and he must have seen that on the tracker,” Cristian says. “That’s when he detonated it.”
It only reminds me that if it had been even a few seconds later, he might not be sitting here.
“This is insane,” I choke out. “I don’t understand why Elias would do this.”
“Come here.” Cristian pulls me onto his lap, unbothered that we have an audience. “I’ll take care of this, gattina. You don’t have to worry.”
I don’t doubt that he will, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
He almost lost his life because of some lunatic’s delusions.
And it’s a betrayal that cuts deep, because I trusted Elias.
After they brought me here and kept my secret safe, I was certain he was someone I never had to worry about.
But now I know he’s an unhinged man on a warpath who wants to hurt Cristian and do God knows what with me.
There’s also the fact that he could reveal my identity at any time to anyone.
But as I sit with that information, there’s one thing that doesn’t really make sense about any of this. I’ve been here for six years, and I’m pretty sure Elias hasn’t been stalking me the entire time.
“He only started hanging around Black Velvet with Andreas about a year ago.” I glance at Ares in question.
A brief flash of guilt flickers in his eyes, confirming my suspicions.
“I changed his position a year ago,” Ares answers vaguely. “He must have found a new haunt on that schedule.”
“What position was he assigned to?” Cristian asks, not missing a beat.
“Unfortunately, that’s proprietary.” Ares brushes a piece of lint off his suit.
I always wondered if Ares had his men keeping tabs on me, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary.
Two of his men used to frequent Black Velvet, but now that I think about it, I haven’t seen them in the last year—when, conveniently, Elias started showing up.
The most likely conclusion I can draw is that Elias’s new position was watching over me.
Ares couldn’t have known this would happen, but I wouldn’t be in this mess if he’d just respected my request in the first place.
“It doesn’t matter,” Angelo tells Ares. “We expect that you’ll be handing him over to us.”
“I’d be happy to, if I knew where he was.” Ares shrugs. “It appears he’s gone rogue. He ditched his phone, and he’s cut contact with all of my men.”
“That’s convenient.” Mariella narrows her gaze at him.
“I have no reason to lie about it.” He eyes her. “I’m not in the business of keeping traitors around. Whether you kill him or I do makes little difference to me.”
“We’ll need whatever you have on him,” Cristian says. “And I want all the documentation he collected on Chantel.”
“Of course,” Ares answers, looking far too pleased with himself.
I can tell by the tension in Cristian’s body that he realizes Ares is up to something too. But that’s a problem for later.
“I do mean all of it,” Cristian reiterates. “Not a copy. Not what you pick and choose. I want anything you have from him.”
“And I’m happy to provide it.” Ares removes a flash drive from his pocket, holding it hostage as he glances between us. “I must say, I didn’t have you two getting together on my bingo card, but I’m rather liking this development. Wouldn’t you agree, Mariella?”
Mariella offers him a blank stare, knowing perfectly well he’s planning to use this situation to his benefit in some way.
“Well, I didn’t have fucking my way through Seattle on my bingo card either, but here we are,” she deadpans.
“Jesus, Mariella.” Angelo grimaces.
Ares’s smile falters for a mere second before he slips back into character. “I suppose none of us can say what’s on the horizon. Life is full of surprises.”
With that ambiguous threat, he hands the drive to Cristian and leaves—whistling as he goes.